


Sold your soul for power (was it worth it in the end, mister?)

by Give_Me_A_Karking_KitKat



Category: The Lost Girl - Anne Ursu
Genre: Alice watches on as their world falls apart, Also also: Alice, Also: Iris, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Abuse, Anyways this is the fallout of being groomed by a fucking creep, Because I sure fucking did, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, From Lark's POV because I'd trigger myself writing it from Iris's, Gen, I wrote this while listening to Toys in the attic by Omnia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It's still in third person it's just Lark-based third person for reference, Poor Dutchess, Vomiting, and feels so so guilty, but considering this book unlocked a few spicy memories, can't believe that's acurate, did anyone else get the vibe Mr. George Green was like. A pedophile?, he fucking kicked Lark so hard he BELIEVED HER WHEN SHE SAID HE'D BROKEN HER WRISTS., i don't think i am, i guess, nothing is explicit but it's in mature for safety, perhaps I'm reading too deeply, perhaps it's just my trauma spilling out that made me write this, somehow 1000× worse than the book, which is like. kinda relevent, which was also a murder but BOY did he deserve it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Give_Me_A_Karking_KitKat/pseuds/Give_Me_A_Karking_KitKat
Summary: Iris Maguire followed her personal pied piper off a cliff, and it nearly damn well killed her.(It definitely fucked her up, at least)
Relationships: Iris Maguire/Mr George Green, Lark Maguire & Iris Maguire, it's noncon tho
Comments: 6
Kudos: 2





	Sold your soul for power (was it worth it in the end, mister?)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I know this is really really fucked up so like. I'm sorry. The idea wouldn't leave me alone.

Iris Maguire is not okay.

Lark knows this. The camp awesome girls know this. Even _Iris_ knows this, and she would love to pretend it is not the case. But no one else knows. Not their parents, or their teachers, or even Abbey, and it's a problem.

Iris followed her personal pied piper off a cliff, and it nearly killed her. And that had scarred, like a deep, festering, wound. Not physically, but mentally. Lark knows her sister. And she knows Iris has nightmares, dreams of a office and a man and a magic well that stole any humanity he had left. She knows that Iris flinches away from strange men now, that ducktape makes her nervous, that the fastest way to make her bolt is to mention the strange thefts (because she will remember a grand house filled with stolen riches, taken by a man who didn't deserve or appriciate them, who kicked his cat and locked his sister away and hurt them, who was everything but the visionary he thought he was), and that she is always watching for crows (Lark is, too, because she is certain that Alice _is_ a crow, because they knew to attack the piper and not his puppet, and she'd like to thank her. She suspects Iris is watching for an entirely different reason).

Her sister tried to keep everything just the same as ever when her world was falling apart, the way she always would, and the souless piper took advantage of that. And Iris blamed herself for that, like it was her fault she'd been caught in a tune that made her deaf to everything else (including, it seemed, her own common sense. Iris would've fretted endlessly if it were anyone but herself in that position, but as it turns out, she had expanded so much effort pointlessly worrying over **Lark** that she'd forgotten to save any for herself. Iris had thought she needed to protect Lark from everything, as though she were hopless, and put so much thought into that she'd totally forgotten that the reason they were Iris _and_ Lark was because she was also, periodically, hopeless. In this instance, so hopeless that Lark would need a clone to keep an eye on all of that hopelessness. Seriously, getting _kidnapped_ was so far outside of the realms of Lark's hopelessness that she hadn't even drempt about it happening before, nevermind everything else that had happened).

Lark tries her hardest to stop Iris thinking like that, but it is very hard to get someone to stop listening to a tune they've been trapped in for months. The serpentine words have slithered into Iris's head, and curled around her brain like a snake, and refuse to leave. The piper put a charmed snake in Iris's head, and now it is thoroughly entwined with her thoughts.

And it is a problem because Iris _believes_ him. On some level, she really does think she's the worst sister ever, that she's worthless and useless and every horrid thing that the piper had ever sung, and Lark hates it. She hates it with such a passion it almost burns to think about, because Iris is none of those things, and she can't see it. The piper made her deaf and blind and twisted everything in her head until she got so muddled up she couldn't tell what was real from his lies, and now they are left sorting through the remains of Iris's poisoned mind, trying to find healthy bits to help. But the piper's made her dumb, as well, because Iris won't tell Lark all she needs to know to help. She can't find the words right now, is too full of cracks and snake bites to find the words right now, so Lark lets it go. (She will regret this, later. She will regret a lot of things later, really (she still won't regret pushing a monster to his death))

It is very exhausting, trying to deal with the fallout from one monster quest. Lark thinks the heroes of most stories must really need a good rest, by the end.

Dutchess curls herself around Iris, and hisses at strange men, and that helps. Dutchess is a strangely smart cat, and if it were not for the fact that Lark _knows_ Alice must be a crow, she'd be half-tempted to believe she were the cat. Iris definitely appreciates the hissing more than she lets their parents believe, and it is very easy to blame Dutchess' behaviour on her past owner, and pretend she is not protecting Iris.

Lark knows, from her efforts of cheering up her sister, that the piper hasn't just left his song in Iris's head, and whatever else he's left is somehow worse. He made Iris feel special and important and noticed, and Lark knows how his kind of attention could twist, how standing out is not always a good thing. She knows how he receded those 'compliments' like a striking viper when he wanted to hurt Iris worst, that that left damage, but that is not it. There is something very wrong with the attention he gave Iris in the first place, but Lark can't quite put her finger on it.

That is, until they do the absolutely _mortifying_ biology lesson on puberty, which drifts off into _sex ed_ (somehow even more mortifying than puberty, which Lark didn't think was possible) and from there onto _consent_ and, then, very lightly, onto _rape._

And Lark feels sick. Like there is a war in her stomach and all the explosions are sending bouts of nausea through her, and she very nearly throws up like she did after the owl pellets. Iris would have told her if anything happened, right? She would've (except she _didn't_ and she went over to that empty (empty!) shop every week for _ages_ and she doesn't like to talk about **him** and _Lark doesn't know_ ). And Lark feels something tilt in her stomach, and something claws at her throat, and there must be a goblin in her stomach because everything feels awful, like something is banging around inside her, and she can feel the blood draining from her face like it is sucking it from her body.

And then she remembers how touch-adverse Iris is, how that came about quite out of nowhere, and suddenly she is up out of her seat and out of the door and throwing up, shaking all over as though she has just run from a hungry dragon, except the beast that she's facing is dead (Lark is suddenly so so glad she shoved him into that accursed well because he is **dead** and so it is only the spectre of a dragon chasing her, but still. Still). Lark wants to march right over to Iris and demand she tell her what happened, but she doesn't want to be right. She doesn't want confirmation.

Anyway, she couldn't do it now, not as she hurls her breakfast up like she is trying to expel the awful feeling from herself, like she is trying to get the thought to come unstuck, but Iris's face flashes in her minds eye, her hands wrapped around herself like she is trying to keep herself together, shaky and sickly and _in pain,_ and Lark had assumed she just had a stomach ache, but what if she hadn't? and so she can't stop hurling, because the thought will not come unstuck. It melds with the memory of the strange way **he** had smiled after she'd told him not to hurt Iris, like _he already had,_ and Lark is so horrified and furious she wants to resurrect him so she can set him alight.

Mr Hunt comes outside after a second, and this is all the evidence Lark needs to prove he is not a troll, because he looks so _concerned_. He waits until she stops retching to speak.

"Lark?" He asks, strangely serious, "What's wrong?" He reaches out and pats her back soothingly, and all Lark can think is 'Iris would have flinched away from that', and she begins _bawling,_ overwhelmed and feeling as though her world is caving in. What does she do? Adults love their facts, and those facts don't include, 'monsters with magic get into little girls' heads and twist their thoughts and _hurt_ them', and Lark doesn't know how to go about bringing down everything her parents have ever taken for granted. But- this is _important._

When she glances up, through blurry eyes, Mr Hunt looks thoroughly worried, face in a frown that is half fear half resolve, and he tries again. "Lark? Did something about that lesson... upset you?"

They are treading on landmines, Lark knows, and she doesn't want to betray Iris's trust, but if she's right things are so much worse than she thought, and she already thought they were **bad**. She nods, silently, and hears his sharp intake of breath, but she can't see the expression he pulls because her eyes are rapidly refilling with tears. Before he can ask more, she quietly adds, "But not for me. For Iris." and Mr Hunt's hand stutters against her back, as though he nearly stopped with surprise. 

"Lark?" Her teacher asks, sounding very unsteady, "What happened with Iris?"

"There was a bad man." She whispers, like speaking it too loudly will make him appear, even though he's **dead** , "he got inside Iris's head. I think-" she pauses, swallows down the bile that is crawling up her throat like a monster trying to escape, "I think he did something, but it didn't fit until now."

Mr Hunt goes green enough that Lark can see it through her tears, and carefully asks, as though the world is shattering for him just as bad as it is for her, "What thing did he do?"

And Lark swallows, and she has faced down a troll swinging his bat around (and it had caught her in the stomach, sent her flying), but this is so much harder, and says, "I think he-" another pause, to swallow down yet more bile, "I think he touched her." There is emphasis in places she doesn't want to emphasize, and she is shuddering, feeling as though she is rapidly cracking porcelain, and Mr Hunt mutters "Fucking hell." under his breath. That's fair. This feels like a swearing moment. If Lark were allowed to swear, she'd definitely be swearing right now.

He takes a moment to gather himself, bringing his hand away from its soothing circles to rub his temples. "Lark." He says, so serious it is comforting, "Is there- is he still around? Who was he?"

And Lark can grin through her tears, because this is something she can answer. "No." She almost crows, strangly gleeful, something so unlike her because this is Lark. Lark, who threw up dissecting owl pellets. Lark, who feeds the crows. Lark, who spends far too much class time daydreaming. But this is also Lark, who vanquished a monster by shoving him into his own magic well. Of course, she can't tell Mr Hunt that, so she says instead, "He tripped over his cat and fell into a well and died. That cat was Dutchess." She is grinning, but it doesn't feel like a good grin, for it is sharp around the edges, and terribly brittle. It sharpens, and breaks, when she adds, "He ran a shop. Treasure Hunters. Iris used to go there every week, without anyone knowing, until he died."

Mr Hunt nods, understanding, and Lark continues because if she stops she doesn't think she'll be able to get any more of it out. "He got it into her head not to say anything, that it'd upset me (like I'm the one who needed protecting) and she went back and back for ages. And she got more closed off. I'm sure you," she gestures at her teacher, suddenly angry, "thought it was just because we were split up, but that was only part of it. She got more and more withdrawn and then she-" Lark chokes up, again, shuddering violently, "and then she started shying away from touch. And _nobody noticed_ and he took advantage of her and _**I didn't even know until he tried to KIDNAP HER!**_ ".

That is far more than Lark meant to say but she can't _stop,_ so she continues, "and something felt off so I went to the afterschool club she should've been at and she wasn't _there_ and they said she'd gone to Treasure Hunters, so we all went over to investigate and Dutchess led us to the back rooms, and Iris was _locked up_ and why didn't I think about this _sooner?_ " Lark practically wails, and her world is crashing around her and everything is _wrong_ and Iris is so much further not alright than she thought, and Lark just can't continue. She cries and cries, and Mr Hunt is frozen in place and Lark has never felt worse.

And then he says, in that serious, comforting voice, "I think we need to call your parents and pull Iris out of class. And," he closes his eyes, and backs away slightly, "call the police."

⁂

Things rapidly spiral out of Lark's control from there. Iris is pulled out of lesson and is betrayed. Their parents are called and they are horrified (they bring Dutchess with them, and she jumps into Iris's arms and starts to purr. Iris tangles her hands in the fur, looking so lost and _little_ that Lark wants to scream with the unfairness of it all). The police are called and stay stoic and unfeeling. They promise to search the property and talk to their parents in hushed tones about everything Lark has already let spill, while Iris shrinks into nothing and Lark simmers.

The amazing girls collaborate with Lark's half-truth, if a bit mixed up, and somehow it comes out that also, yes, Mr. George Green kicked Lark halfway across the room and threatened to kill them all (but especially Hannah, who he'd essentially held hostage, and Lark, who would've been the first down the well) and keep Iris, and yes he locked her in a room and tied her to a chair with ducktape, and then someone lets slip that _Lark_ actually shoved him down the well with the help of Dutchess, and all the adults stare at her and she bristles sharply. She'd do anything for Iris, and she doesn't regret it.

So then it turns out Lark is getting charged with murder (even though its pretty clear it's going to get ruled as self-defense, especially since he nearly threw _her_ down it) and they're all going to see a goddamned therapist, and then Iris, speaking up for the first time after confirming that George Green did something (everyone got taken out of the room for that, and the police had questioned her privately, and when they were let back in she'd been full on sobbing. She'd let mum and dad swoop her into a big, watery hug, and held Lark's hand for a while after), quietly adds what she learned about Alice.

Lark wonders if Iris thought she might be able to find her, tell her what happened, and wonders how to broach the topic that Alice probably already knows because Alice is near-definitely a crow.

The police furrow their brows and add it to their notes (they never do find any trace of the girl, except they leave a 'missing person's poster' out, and Alice the crow admires what she might have looked like as an adult, before memorizing the contact information). After a bit, the police leave, and their parents have a very long conversation with the headteacher, Ms. Messner, and Mr. Hunt. Lark's stomach grumbles, because she threw up breakfast and it is almost at tea-time now, and Iris silently hands her the granola bar she packed 'just in case'. Lark taps her hand three times in thanks, and all but devours it.

When their parents come out, they announce that today is a day free of work, and that they're going to watch silly movies and eat ice cream because today has already been a very taxing day, and they all need a break.

Later, a crow will write a letter to the human police (the crows pay very close attention, and anyway, Dutchess likes to talk when she is not relaxing in the sun), filled with guilt (it only talks about not reporting what her brother did to her, not the real guilt Alice feels over not realising things had gone that wrong, that her brother was that far gone, and failing to warn Iris away well enough. (She _tried_ and it wasn't enough and it is _awful_ )). Later, the police will search the back of a shop and find things that do not make any logical sense, and also all the awful evidence they need (his body is burned, at the bottom of a well that calls to them like something alive, and there is an office with things in it that would make any person's stomach turn). Later, Lark will be tried for murdering her sister's rapist, and found not guilty. Later, Iris will sit in therapy and talk about all the bad things that happened. But for now, a family hug and watch bad comedies and talk of better things, and it is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still really, really sorry.


End file.
